Between Realms
by NirCele
Summary: Arwen, on her way back to Imladris after gone for a long while, meets her brothers, who she was supposed to wait for. Their anger at her recklessness is not quite what it seems, however, and their fear - of being too late, of failing her too - is deeper than it ever has been before. Set after Celebrian sells, a one-shot. Happy birthday, ThurinRanger!


**Happy birthday, Thurin! This is for you! (I probably could have done a happier one, but you know how we love fighting and angst – unfortunately I couldn't whip up a Glorfindel one for you). ;-(**

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The sun peeked over the mountaintop and shone down brightly upon the freshly fallen snow. A quiet wind rippled through pine branches, and there was a soft shuffling as horses' hooves broke through the crust of the snow.

Arwen sat lightly upon her mare, the reins caught in her left hand and her keen gaze traversing the land around them. Her three maidservants, riding almost directly behind her, were silent in the early morning air. Several of the guards, a few hundred yards back and only half-armored for faster travel, seemed to be communicating with short whistles and a few gestures between them.

A chestnut-colored horse appeared on the ridge and picked its way back toward them, the scout on its back holding his message until he reached them. He spun the horse when he got to Arwen and rode alongside her, his face unusually serious.

"My Lady," he said, gesturing the way he had just come, "the pass is clear all the way to the river. From there, it will be only a dozen or more miles to Imladris. But…" and here he hesitated briefly, "…There are riders coming toward us from that direction."

"Who?" Arwen asked, straining to see the horizon as if that would somehow tell her.

"Two riders, my Lady…and –"

"My brothers," Arwen deduced, and when the scout nodded, her face sobered. "Very well, then, thank you."

He tilted his head and then drove his horse forward again, weaving through some trees and checking the way once more.

Arwen sighed. She knew her older brothers were going to be upset when they reached her – she wasn't supposed to have left Lóthlorien until the Summer Equinox, when they were to visit Lóthlorien and escort her back safely to Imladris. Yes…they would be angry.

Ten minutes later, as she and her retinue made their way over the crest of the mountain and started down, she could see two midnight-black horses galloping toward her, far enough away that it would take them at least another hour to reach her, even if they were travelling toward each other. She could make out their faces, though, and it was most assuredly her brothers, their expressions dark as they spurred their horses onwards.

They met about fifty minutes later, Arwen holding up a hand to halt her entourage as the twins' ebony horses reached them. The two great horses huffed and stomped when Elladan and Elrohir pulled them to a sharp halt, the elven-bred endurance of the stallions letting them breathe easily after their hard run.

The twins' faces were dark, their eyes piercing and furious. Their hair was caught back in warrior braids, armor light, and they sat easily on their mounts. Elladan's sword was tied tightly at his side, Elrohir's twin swords lashed to his back but loosened for easy access. Elrohir's horse chomped at his bit as his rider's gaze fell unsettlingly on Arwen.

She met his eyes without flinching, her jaw set as stubbornly as theirs were. "Good day, brothers."

Elrohir was mute; he glared for a long moment, then turned his horse and started back toward Imladris, his fingers clenched on his reins and back stiff. Elladan fell in beside her as she nudged her horse forward, but he was not so silent.

"You could not _wait_?" he hissed at her, barely keeping his voice low enough that the other members of her escort couldn't hear. "We were to come for you in a month."

"Yes, I know," she said, urging her horse onward and keeping her eyes on the distant horizon this time. "But I missed you, and _Adar_."

"You take the same –" Elladan's voice broke and he turned his head away from her, and it was then that she knew he and Elrohir were not truly angry at _her_. She could hear him take in a deep breath, then he spoke again.

"You take the same path our mother took, on the way here."

"Brother," she said, reaching out to catch his hand. Their horses stayed apace, but he still didn't turn his face back to her. "Brother, I have a sizeable escort, and my handmaidens are trained in defense. There are scouts before and behind, and this pass was checked recently to watch for the enemy. Do you really think _Daernaneth_ and _Daeradar_ would let me leave without severe precautions? _Daernaneth_ probably watches us now to ensure our safety."

Elladan turned his head now, pulling his hand away, and she recoiled at the fury and hurt in his darkening eyes. "Precautions? _Precautions_? Those did nothing to help _her_!"

Arwen sat back in her saddle, and her horse slowed. "Is that how you feel? Truly? You are of the thought that it was her escort's fault?"

"That is not what I said, Arwen." His voice was low, dangerous, but she wasn't cowed.

"You fear for me," she challenged, and before he could say anything, she went on. "I spend a short time going between home and Lóthlorien, and yet you and Elrohir spend months in the Wild, hunting and killing – and you tell me, which is more dangerous? Should I not feel more terror for you when you leave?"

"It's not the same," he said fiercely.

"No," Arwen said quietly. "But if you would feel the loss terribly if I was attacked on a journey, how do you think I would be affected if you or Elrohir was wounded or – or killed? How do you think _Adar_ would feel?"

He was silent for a time, then he spoke again. "You left…without waiting for us."

"I did. I could not be sure you would come anyway. You didn't make it last time."

"If you would _not_ …" Elladan didn't complete his sentence, but his jaw clenched and he stared ahead.

Arwen's voice was hushed. "You would rather me stay in Lóthlorien? Never visit _Adar_ again, never see our home?"

"Not…never." Elladan still didn't looked at her, and he released a low breath. "But yes, it would be safe."

Arwen bit back a harsh retort and turned her eyes to the elegantly braided mane of her mare. "Is this how you both feel? And _Adar_?"

Elrohir twisted in his saddle at that moment to look over his shoulder at her, and his eyes met Elladan's for a brief moment before his gaze locked with her eyes, and then he frowned and turned back. Elladan looked at her, his gaze steady. " _Adar_ has not said as much, but his composure when he hears that you are coming – or when you leave…if you knew the fear in his eyes, you would reconsider."

"Very well," she replied, and said no more to him. Elladan seemed to fall into his thoughts, but he kept a sharp lookout around them, and Elrohir did the same.

So they travelled the remaining distance to Imladris in tense silence.


End file.
